On November nights the moon
lit and shadowed hedge trees,
pillared the lane as he walked.
Stars littered the sky over the moor,
he shouted constellations,
hunted with Orion
rode Charles’s Wain.

He understood time like Kepler,
measured it easy
as counting sheep or stars.

The sheep skulls he found
and ranged on shelves
confirmed the endurance of bone.

Anne Born